this heart you've found (keep it warm)
by scarletsailor
Summary: She's been doing this often—listening for your heartbeat—and it reminds both of you that you're alive. Carmilla. Set post-Christmas special. Hollstein.


**this heart you've found (keep it warm)**

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><p><strong>AN:** Written for cos-im-a-craving-addict on tumblr for the Carmilla Creampuff Secret Santa. Also written while listening to Blood / Chest by William Fitzsimmons.

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><p>Perry had demanded that you clean up the "unholy mess" that you made in making a meal out of the crazy gingerbread lady and you had complied without too much grumbling. She had watched you <em>eat<em> someone and the only thing that she claimed to be unholy was the result of your sloppy mouth. It makes you wonder if the company you're with is stranger than you are supernatural, and Perry and LaFontaine get on your nerves, but you could be stuck with worse.

Laura kisses you on the cheek and everything feels alright.

You grab a mop from a storage closet in the back, peeling cobwebs from the handle. Luckily, there's running water in the kitchen and you get to work, thinking about all of the health codes you must be violating.

You're not used to cleaning. Sweat peppers your forehead and eventually, you strip off your Grumpy Cat sweater (a present from Laura that she had apparently bought for you weeks before) and toss it onto the counter, starting slightly when it lands next to where Laura's perched, watching you contently.

"Enjoying the view?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. You were wearing a tank top underneath your sweater, of course, but your tone is still suggestive.

"Definitely," Laura quips. "Watching you clean is actually kind of a turn on."

You huff out a laugh. "Don't think that's going to fool me into cleaning out any shower drains, cupcake." With a sigh, you dump the mop into the bloody bucket. "Nice try, though."

Undeterred, Laura reaches out for you. You obey easily, standing between her knees and pulling her to you. Her hands slide up your neck, into your hair, blunt nails scraping against your scalp. If you could purr in your human form, you would in this moment. Your hands bunch in her sweater and she presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. "I'm not thrilled about the fact that we were almost killed by a crazy Mrs. Claus wannabe," Laura mutters against your skin, "but I'm glad you got to eat. I was worried about you."

You smile begrudgingly. "I know," you say, gently nuzzling your face into hers.

"And I'm sorry for being so stubborn," she adds. "You just…get me that way, you know? It's stupid and I can act stupid sometimes and I'm just—I'm working on it."

"You can work on it tomorrow," you groan. She's rambling again and you've learned that it's best to reassure her before she gets in too deep. "It's Christmas. You've been a good enough girl this year, no doubt. Let's just enjoy ourselves tonight."

She hums a little, smiling. "I'm happy that you're here with me," she says. The lights are dim, but her eyes are bright and they're looking at you the way you've waited over 300 years for.

Having Laura in your arms and being in her arms is the only happiness that you'll ever want. You wonder about bats sleeping upside down and whether or not, as a vampire, you'd be able to sleep in this position because you're really not willing to move.

The moment is broken by Perry bustling in from the kitchen, waving her arms wildly about her and snatching the mop from the bucket, LaFontaine on her heels. "Out, out, out," she screeches at you. "I will not tolerate celebrating this night in a filthy restaurant!"

You and Laura are laughing and you help her hop off the counter. She stops to grab your sweater before she tugs you into the back. You stumble over your own feet, Laura grips your arms to keep you upright, and a kiss aimed at her mouth lands on her nose.

You feel young. Laura has that effect on you.

"Perry must've gotten bored cleaning the kitchen," Laura giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist. "I don't think she approves of your mop workmanship."

"She can think of it as my Christmas present to her." You shrug. Laura's cheekbones are soft underneath your thumbs and her smile grows wider. "Even if I had tried to clean up that mess, she would've just washed everything down again after I was done."

She laughs again. Her eyes shut after a moment and she rests her head against your shoulder, her nose brushing against your neck. She's been doing this often—listening for your heartbeat—and it reminds both of you that you're alive.

You sway, just a little bit, back and forth, as she plays with the hairs on the back of your neck. "Merry Christmas, Laura." You haven't celebrated the holiday in years that you lost count of long ago, but Laura whispers the words back to you and you celebrate her.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Happy holidays, everyone!


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